I'll Show You How to Keep Warm
by gothamstreetcat
Summary: Far from home, Bruce and Selina suffer on the city streets of Chicago.


It was close to twelve in the morning by the time the rain started to slow. The sky still heavy with water swelling in the gutters of Chicago's city streets. The tall buildings were just starting to become a bit more visible from above, and the haze of people's faces became more to resemble faces rather than blurs. Regardless, they were strangers and the only familiar surrounding being the heavy, wet stench in the air reminding them of home.  


They were already soaked.

Bruce and Selina sat hunched together under the bus shuttle while the rain patted against its rusted metal frame and water ran down the plexiglass sides like teardrops. The neon blue light pulsating above them signed: _'Bus.'_ The sound emitting from its twisted frame, turned from a sizzling hum to a crackling pop. It was a 'not so stable roof above their heads' but a roof all the same. Even when the wind howled against them causing the structure to groan, it was keeping them from getting increasingly wet in spite of leaving them exposed to the cold.

They were thankful, even as their new squat sat halfway across the city, still. Selina had just enough time to pull them under safety before it really started to pour. Pulling Bruce tightly by the cuff of his now ragged jacket so he didn't slip and fall; becoming a victim of strangers' shoes she was sure would walk right over him. Now, they sat shivering and starving like hairless cats abandoned alone on a frozen winter's night. Ignored and stepped around by the passing patrons struggling in the wet slush and ice, slipping and sliding themselves on the sidewalk as they tried to gain their footing. Painting their fancy shoes and over expensive trousers in the dirty white snow. Bruce and Selina would have laughed under different circumstances.

Yet they were both too weak to move.

Selina closed her eyes together. Visualizing the hopeful image of herself sinking into the clawfoot tub by the time the sun came up. Hot water and steam filling her nostrils, the warm bath healing her skin instantly. Maybe she'd dig her fingers into the stash of floral-scented soaps and body rinses that their unknowing tenants left out. Just a little, she thought. Even if the smell bothered her, she would be clean. She would feel clean. Despite being familiar with the grime and dirt that caked under her nails and hung over her clothes, there was nothing in the world like being clean.

Yet, while Bruce appreciated the privilege of being clean and being able to bathe, he welcomed said dirt. Which made Selina smile ever so little at how being dirty didn't bother him, even if it did evoke her into feeling sorry for him. He felt as though those 'necessities' were not as prioritizing as society made them seem. Even the thought of them was exhausting, to say the least. It was as though being dirty comforted him in some peculiar way. Wrapped around him like a child with a blanket in the middle of the night, escaping from their bed to get a glass of water from the kitchen. Selina couldn't understand if it was his stubbornness for such tasks or his passion for living the way others were forced to live, but somehow beyond logic and reason, slumming it with the poor and unwanted made him feel more at home in the world then he ever did in his manor.

He was still Bruce, of course. The same good morals, semi-perfect posture, and brain with knowledge beyond any schoolroom, but something inside him appeared to be different somehow. As though he was where he wanted to be and it made him happy. Not regular happiness either. The kind of happiness you feel in your chest and you can't stop smiling. The kind of joy that makes you wanna lose yourself and do crazy things. Yes, he was still Bruce Wayne, just… another layer of Bruce Wayne.

Selina sat trying to decode everything with her legs swinging along the edge of the bench to keep her body warm. Both her and Bruce's fingers wound tightly against the damp wood where they would soon get splinters she was sure. As sure as the known fact that they both desperately needed to escape the cold.

Bruce was shivering more than her. Even as he tried to keep a dignified composure and act cool, he was far from it. He could barely sit still while almost leaning himself against the sides of the bench. It was clear he was horribly sick in spite of himself denying it to both of them. His nose would run constantly, all the way down his chin. It was unclear to Selina if he noticed it at all or was too weak to do anything about it. He had chills and sweats all through the night. So, when he was cold she threw extra layers over him, everything she could find. When he was hot, she helped strip them all away, sometimes leaving him only in his boxer shorts. Combined with his erratic nightmares, every chance he did manage to fall asleep turned into a recipe for chaos. His body was failing him and one could only imagine his mind was sure to follow.

The worst part? When he tried to hide it from her. The urge to cough or attempts to take smaller breaths, only to be thwarted into looking physically sick. Selina could hear the mucus and phlegm rattling around in his lungs--even from the other room. At night she would beat on his backside to knock things loose. Leaving him feeling a little better afterwards but it was never enough and he'd still be breathing sick in the morning. He needed a doctor, only he'd refused. The hospital and emergency center met with the same response. He didn't want to go and risk them being discovered only to be sent back home. Therefore, whatever medicine they found in the apartment they used, however faulty. Tylenol, fever reducer, and cough syrup seemed just enough to keep him breathing but Selina always worried for how long.

Bruce was tough and a good sport. But regardless, a rich kid like him had no business surviving in a world like hers. Dirty and hungry, while being used as the world's punching bag. The city viewed them differently no matter how they looked. It was always the same, they were trouble. And while Bruce's skin may have been tough enough on the outside to handle all the foul language and physical abuse thrown his way, his body was simply unable to handle the conditions.

One instance, Selina remembered, it was freezing in the middle of winter. She was rather desperate and Ivy was terribly sick. Just like Bruce and wearing her usual three sweaters over a long-sleeved shirt. Her stockings frayed from months of wear under a skirt that no longer went past her legs. She was the thinnest weight Selina had ever seen and fading quickly, even as no hospital would take her or even _look_ at her for such a matter. So Selina, in all her amature bit of wisdom and quick wit decided to take Ivy down to the pharmacy on the corner. There, Selina snuck behind the restricted area while the night serviceman was sleeping on duty, snatching a couple pill bottles at random. She made Ivy swallow them all so she could call for an ambulance and they had to admit her. A couple of weeks following and they were reunited once again, with Ivy turning up again in the same part of town carrying a few more pounds on her.

A chill ran its way through Selina's shoulders as she imagined Ivy's potential state in her absence. Hopefully, she got together with the stoner, hippy kids from _The Flea_ and boarded a city bus _leaving_ Gotham. Besides, she couldn't help Ivy from so far away anymore. She had another little stray under her wing now to keep alive.

When she glanced in Bruce's direction she noticed his nose was starting to run except this time it ran blood instead of snot. A nice crimson trail clearly seen even in the dim street lights. Tenderly, she tucked her thumb into her hood sleeve and reached between the small distance separating them. Her thumb caught the blood just before it reached his lower lip and she swiped upward to wipe it away. She pressed the finger against his nose while her other hand snuck over the back of his neck where she cradled his head against her fingers. His head came back with ease but it was his body that became the trouble. As if her slight touch made him feel colder somehow. He struggled to breathe as mucus clogged his lungs and for a second he considered if what he was experiencing was the feeling of death. Choking on one's own blood. Drowning perhaps?

Where the city became the ocean and the rain transformed into the water and waves. Pushing… pulling him down further deep into the dark abyss. His fingers reaching for the surface if there was a surface to reach for at all. If he was able to move his fingers even slightly, but they were frozen. His skin was coated in a thin layer of ice. His cheeks, nose, and even his toes curled under two pairs of socks and a pair of decently worn boots frozen as well.

A low moan escaped his throat. Soothing and soft, Selina couldn't help when her lips turned into a quirky half-smile. He couldn't hear himself but he felt the noise deep in his throat as Selina was starting to tickle her fingers through his hair. It was exceedingly comforting, how soft and slow she could be. How gentle just by barely touching him. Caressing the wet locks peeking from underneath the hat on his head, soaked exactly as the rest of him. He relaxed more on the bench and before he knew it his eyes were closed deeply, his head resting on top of Selina's lap. She continued running her fingers in his hair, removing his soaked cap and brushing his hair back, combing through it with overgrown nails. His feet and legs were now resting on the other end of the bench as he curled himself into her.

Now, in a moment of vulnerability, Selina reached a hand over his torso. His ribs, she could feel were molding to his skin beneath his clothes. He was almost as bad as herself during her first days on the street. Feeling her touch he leaned up as much as he could to look into her eyes, as if asking if he was alright and if she was too. She could only manage a small smile to him. She wasn't going to lie and say everything was okay. Instead, she combed two hands through his hair and he settled against her again.

Selina let him lay there for quite some time before pulling him upward and resting him along her shoulder. Among the chatter of passers-by, the rain, and the cars he couldn't hear her even though he knew she was speaking to him. Something regarding how the rain was sure to stop soon, but it didn't bother him to be stuck in a smelly bus shuttle because of the rain. It didn't worry him how sick he'd increasingly become or the knowledge that he'd only get worse. He was with Selina. Kind, gentle, and loving Selina. Someone who aided in the passion he was pursuing. Who could say if they were to die they'd suffer a better fate then he?

Then he realized the cold in his fingers had somehow melted away. His skin had begun stinging and throbbing a little. When he opened his eyes, he saw Selina's emerald irises closed off to him. His hands over her mouth and her fingers cupped gently around them. She was breathing into his palms slowly. He blinked while each breath of hers' restored feeling into each of his fingers. The ice melting away into water pooling into his palms. He tried to say 'thank you' above the noise but he knew Selina was unable to hear him and even the silent mouthing of his words were not enough. So he carefully traded his hands for hers, cupping them along his cheeks as she had done, breathing as deep as he could. Like his, her hands were frozen, and he had to pause every now and again through his coughing fits, but she let him warm her.

Soon enough however, his hands were starting to tremble again. Quickly, Selina released herself with ease and pulled him close beside her. Even with the rain and being soaked through their clothes, their combined body heat didn't seem enough to sustain them. At least it was something.

One arm clung tightly around Bruce, Selina reached her free hand to the pocket just above her thigh. Her fingers brushing along the quarter-sized dent she'd been holding onto for days, checking several times a day just to be sure she hadn't lost it.

She was saving it, as Christmas was coming soon if it had not already passed them by. The lights hung around the streets on lamp posts and street signs were an indication. Shop windows were even painted in bright colors and markings that read: 'Sale.' People even found it in themselves to be just a bit nicer to them when they were walking down the street. Waitresses would give them coffee and sometimes a plate of food. The bus would let them ride for free and occasionally ride them till the night was over and the day had just begun. It felt strange to be so far from home in a place where they were the stranges, and during a time like Christmas. Even though it wasn't Selina's first time without a family, a tree, or even the stupidest little hand-wrapped gift, she felt a painful knot in her stomach from the guilt of leaving everything behind and taking Bruce with her. The coin in her pocket provided a bit of relief. Bruce could call home and speak to Alfred. Maybe even Jim Gordon if it suited him. She whispered, quietly promising herself she would make this Christmas mean something, but only when Bruce became better. Then he could make his calls.

Not only was Bruce enduring his first Christmas away from home. It was his first Christmas without his family too, without his mom and dad with presents over a warm fire and the overall atmosphere of 'family.' Again, Selina's gut twisted inside her with guilt. Before they stumbled upon their temporary home, they were unapologetically sleeping in the bathrooms of subway stations. Surviving off the trays of 'free sample' muffins and cookies from restaurants. Long days spent in the cold exerting energy they didn't have before ducking into a 24-hour diner for relief. Sucking down shitty coffee in cracked mugs using the last couple dollars Selina had crumpled in the bottom of her pocket. It wasn't ideal, surely, but Bruce never once complained. He always smiled and pushed his half eaten crumbs in her direction as they laughed by the window, long before he was ever sick.

It became clear how it didn't matter where he was or what he was doing. Bruce was happy with the person he was with. Even if it was only the two of them leaning themselves heavily against some random bench in some far away city, Bruce with his head resting against Selina's shoulder and Selina with her head bobbing back and forth along the plastic walls of the shuttle. Her eyes nodding heavily as she tried to fight sleep.

By the time they opened again, she came to realize she'd been asleep for a long while. The rain was gone completely, now replaced with a light snowfall as tiny flakes were cascading down around them. It was beautiful from the rooftops, Selina knew. Yet just as pretty watching from below but looking up instead. The way the snow hit her face caused her mouth to curl from the sides for the third time that morning.

She shifted and jabbed two fingers into Bruce's chest. Pointing upward so he could see it for himself. He tried smiling but was too weak. However, all the joy and wonder in that moment of looking over the sky she was seeing in his eyes. Always a first look type of gaze as if he was seeing things for the first time. Selina knew because he had once looked at her the same way too.

He struggled to get himself into a sitting position beside her. Wiping his nose on the sleeve of his jacket as another chill ran through him. Breathing in snot he coughed again and again until the rattling in his chest subsided. He then looked to the tops of the skyscrapers where he could see the flurry already beginning to accumulate on the window panes and roof. Perhaps it was his sickness tricking him, but each snowflake looked like stars falling from the sky, every one of them something to wish upon.

He shifted instead, losing focus as Selina threw her jacket loose over his shoulders as she helped straighten him to his feet. His legs quivered under his weight but he felt safe knowing Selina was there to hold him steady. The Chicago crowd was long gone by the hour, having left something for Bruce and Selina to find their way home with. Their footprints, a mess in the pavement and embedded in snow that looked almost blue. It was something they could use to find their way home. Together, they hobbled out of the shuttle, each of their arms swung around one another in a protective embrace. They walked slowly in the direction of the City's lights, being touched by every shooting star as they passed.


End file.
